


Eve of Battle

by AdmantCrow



Category: Samurai Warriors
Genre: Anxiety, Eve of battle, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, Longing, Love, M/M, Sekigahara, Tenderness, War, leprosy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 13:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15462507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdmantCrow/pseuds/AdmantCrow
Summary: The Battle of Sekigahara looms. Mitsunari attempts to save the life of his closest friend and adviser.





	Eve of Battle

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote nearly a year ago, so it's more something I thought I'd put up anyway! Enjoy!

“I’ll be some time, Sakon.” Mitsunari murmured to his chief strategist. “I’ll return to my quarters once my business is concluded with Yoshitsugu. You may await me there.” Sakon Shima glanced around the corner of the massive camp that housed the Western Army.   
  


“My lord, are you sure?” Sakon murmured back to Mistunari Ishida, his lord, and commander of the Western Army. “Just because you didn’t send the Shimazu to assassinate Ieyasu, does not mean Ieyasu will do the same! We -are- on the eve of our final battle”. Mitsunari, in normal fashion, brushed off Sakon’s worry and shrugged.   
  


“If that happens, then I shall simply call for help. And if none comes… I have my skills, and I shall be with Yoshitsugu. If that’ll be all, return to my quarters, Sakon.” And with that, Mistunari turned his back to Sakon and walked towards the large tent occupied by Yoshitsugu.

Apparently unbothered by Mitsunari’s cold, rude behaviour, Sakon simply just chuckled and strode back across the camp towards Mistunari’s command tent, stroking his sideburns.    
  
“Even after all this time, he forsakes his own safety and goes to his friend.” He stopped, looking up at the moon. “Let’s just pray that man will be still be here the next time that moon has risen.”

* * *

 

 

Mistunari stood outside Yoshitsugu’s tent. Why was he hesitating to enter? Mitsunari was his commander, he had that right to enter. But the reason he had come here, why he had to talk to his friend… it made him hesitate. Mitsunari was so caught in his thoughts he’d realised he’d been standing outside Yoshitsugu’s tent for a good two minutes now.

  
“Well…” Mitsunari murmured, as if to state his resolve. “Yoshitsugu?” He called out into the tent. He heard a quiet noise from inside the tent, as if someone was stumbling to move quickly. A minute passed, with no response. Feeling a small jolt of fear inside him, Mistunari called out again. “Yoshitsugu?” A few long seconds passed, and then he heard his friend’s gentle voice call back.

  
“…Mitsunari. Please come in.” 

Mitsunari stepped into the rather large commander’s tent and looked around for his friend. Yoshitsugu was sitting behind a screen, hidden from Mitsunari’s view. “My lord. What do you need of me at this hour?” Mitsunari opened his mouth, but didn’t say what he came to say.

  
“Yoshitsugu…? Are you…well?” As his eyes adjusted to the diminished light in the tent, Mitsunari could see his friend’s outline on his knees, his rather loud panting echoeing in the confined space. Yoshitsugu didn’t answer straight away. Mitsunari glanced to his side – Yoshitsugu’s robe lay across a chair.

  
“…Of…Of course I’m well, Mitsunari. You just caught me in a state of undress. What…” Mitsunari jumped slightly as Yoshitsugu descended into a coughing fit.

_   
_ _ “Just like last time…”  _ Mitsunari thought, frowning. Eventually, his friend’s coughing fit died down and Yoshitsugu spoke again, his voice rough from the cough.

  
“I-I apologise my lord.” Mitsunari could see him make some form of a bow behind the screen. “I may have… caught an illness during the march to Sekigahara. Now, please, what did you wish to speak to me about so urgently, Mistunari?” Yoshitsugu as a good liar. But not right now.

MItsunari swallowed hard, the sound of the coughing fit still ringing in his ears. The sound he’d heard much more than one too many. 

 

“Yoshitsugu. Your service to me has been admirable, and your help with me in the lead up to our battle with the Eastern Army had been nothing short of honourable. But-“

  
“I felt this was coming. Have you…finally listened to my advice, Mistunari? Cutting me off?” Those seven words were like a dagger in Mitsunari’s heart, worse than any assassin’s. “Is my… usefulness at an end?” Mitsunari did not answer. Anxiety was welling up inside him, restricting his words, leaving him trembling. He forced out a reply to his friend.

  
“N-No, of course, Yoshitsugu, it’s just-“

  
“It must be one, or the other, Mitsunari. That’s the way the flow goes.” Mitsunari bit his tongue slightly. “I…” He hesitated, just for one moment. “...don’t mind you sending me away. If you think it’s for the best, I’ll follow your-“

  
“I don’t want to send you out to the field in your condition!” Mitsunari said a little louder then he intended. Yoshitsugu went silent as soon as Mitsunari mentioned his ‘condition’. Mitsunari felt sweat drip down his back at his admitting his fears of his friend.

  
“I… don’t know what you’re referring to.” Yoshitsugu murmured. Even if Mitsunari wasn’t smart, he could easily tell he was lying. “In any case, I have use in the battle even as a pawn. Someone has to keep an eye on Kobayakawa.

  
“Don’t make me say it.” Mitsunari whispered. He didn’t want it to be true, but he couldn’t ignore it and send Yoshitsugu to his death, if his state was as bad as he feared. “I’m not going to force you to leave. But I’m not going to ignore this.”

  
“…” His friend was silent behind the screen. Mistunari shook his head and simply gave into what he had to do from the start. He didn’t want to force him to go. Losing one of his greatest generals… No, he was just justifying his thoughts. Losing one of his friends – Yoshitsugu Otani was one of the few friends he still had, and going into battle without him on his side made Mitsunari’s heart churn.

But it had to be said. And it had to be done.

 

“Yoshitsugu, step out. I wish to inspect my commander.” Mitsunari heard his sharp intake of breath. His figure behind the screen barely moved.

  
“…I am in a state of undress. It would not be appropriate for my lord.” Mistunari waved his hand to dismiss this, even if his friend couldn’t see him, as if he was just calming himself.

  
“I have bathed with my officers before. This is no different. Now, present yourself for your lord.”

Slowly, Yoshitsugu stood, coughing slightly as he did. Mitsunari prepared himself for what he was about to see. He wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong with Yoshitsugu, but he knew he’d had for a long time – why else did he hide his body with his white robes? Was it an issue from his birth, or a just a longstanding disease? Considering the length he went through to hide his body.

Mitsunari felt his body churn with the idea of seeing what Yoshitsugu -really- looked like under his robes. For a moment, he forgot about seeing what his medical state was… he just wanted to see what his closest friend truly looked like.

 

Slowly, as if it was a great effort, Yoshitsugu clambered out from behind the dressing screen. His long, dark hair was spilled over his face and chest, and the young man was hunched over, hiding his features in the shadows. The lower half of his robes were still around his waist – it was likely Mitsunari entered just prior to his bath.

“Yoshitsugu…” Mitsunari gulped, tilting his head a little to try and get a better look. It almost seemed like Yoshitsugu was on the verge of shuffling away. “…Stand straight, pull back your hair, if you would.” Yoshitsugu hesitated for a moment, his arms shaking ever so slightly, and then he did as Mitsunari asked, pulling his hair back behind his neck and back, and revealing himself to his lord.

 

Mitsunari’s eyes widened slightly as he lay his eyes on his closest friend’s form properly for the first time. First, his eyes met with Yoshitsugu’s – his clear, cool blue eyes stared back at his, not angry like MItsunari had believed they would, forcing him to expose himself like this. No, they looked afraid, exposed. Did he fear Mitsunari would spread the news about his illness? He couldn’t be sure what was lurking inside Yoshitsugu’s head – but then again, he never could anyway. Mitsunari suddenly realised he’d be looking at Yoshitsugu’s deep eyes for a bit too long. Scratching his head awkwardly, Mitsunari took the plunge and stared down at Yoshitsugu’s frame for the first time. He had to fight the urge to step back at what greeted him.

 

Mitsunari didn’t believe in curses, or bad luck, or any of that mystic rubbish. But if there was ever evidence of someone’s body holding a curse, it was here. Much of Yoshitsugu’s chest and ribs were almost purple in colour, flecks of skin clearly falling off and being repaired across his body at the same time. Warts and sores were interspaced across his lower stomach and ribs, red and painful looking. Bandages were wrapped around his left forearm and right shoulder – Mitsunari assumed that had particularly severe concentrations of broken skin or warts. Looking further, he learnt exactly why Yoshitsugu wore gauntlets over his robes – his left hand was swollen, the skin looking as if it had just flat out died. As if out of fear of embarrassment, Yoshitsugu withdrew his hands behind his back, causing Mitsunari again to stare at his face.

 

Somehow, by some miracle, his face had escaped much of the disease ravaging his body. The purple, ‘dead’ look of his skin had begun to spread to his neck, and a few warts and sores lay around his ears, but overall it was in a much better state then his torso. Without realising it, Mitsunari felt his eyes being drawn to Yoshitsugu’s finer features: His defined cheekbones, his messy, midnight black hair, the notably soft and smooth sections of skin that were untouched by the disease. Mitsunari just felt his heart beat faster as he looked over his friend - the expression of anxiety, of fear, that lay upon Yoshitsugu’s face was one Mitsunari never expected to see come from him.

  
“So.” Yoshitsugu’s calm, mostly collected voice broke through the bubble that Mitsunari’s thoughts had created. “What do you have to say about… m-my condition, my lord?” He almost snarled the word ‘condition’ through his teeth, as if it physically pained him to say the word. Mitsunari felt anxiety beat at his chest. On one hand, he feared keeping him at his side at Sekigahara. On the other, he feared sending his dearest friend away, and possibly cost the friendship they had built in the decade since even before Hideyoshi died. “So what will it be? Mitsunari?” Hearing his name almost made him tremble.

 

His lips trembling, Mitsunari finally answered.   
“I… don’t want to be responsible for your death at Sekigahara. Of course, you may be only having the occasional coughing fit, but what if tomorrow it it far worse? What kind of commander would I be to send you out, when you’re like… this?” He vaguely gestured to Yoshitsugu’s sickened body.   
Yoshitsugu leant against the changing screen slightly, his eyes narrowing.   
  
“You talk of being a proper commander, but that hasn’t stopped you before, when it comes to me.” Mitsunari crossed his arms, tapping his foot in his typically childish fashion.   
  
“What do you mean? Just say it.” Yoshitsugu shook his head and threw his arms out to cement his point.   
  
“How about the conquest of Shikoku? When I was in that situation, hemmed in all signs, Hideyoshi saw me as a sacrificial pawn, and I accepted that was the best situation he could have come up with. But you and your troops had to charge in and by some divine might, saved me and my troops from certain death.” Mitsunari averted his friend’s gaze, scratching the back of his head.   
  
“I simply wanted to save as many of Hideyoshi’s troops for future battles…”   
  
“Or perhaps I should remind you about the final time Hideyoshi and Ieyasu went against each other. I was the leader of the diversion force to break into the castle, and then we had Tadakatsu Honda on our tail. I accepted the end then, and then, AGAIN.” Mitsunari felt his hands shaking, though he wasn’t sure why. “You came in, putting the whole battle in jeopardy, to rescue me.”   
  
“I just… I wanted to…” This was not the Yoshitsugu Otani that he usually spoke with - the words spewing from his lips were full of emotion, of fear and anger and...   
  
“The problem is, you can’t separate your feelings from your role as commander!” If you just told me to leave, I will, but you can’t make that decision because you don’t want to lose me as a friend! Even if it was beneficial to the battle tomorrow!!” Mitsunari felt a chill run through his body. Sometime he wondered if Yoshitsugu could read minds - times like these almost confirmed these fears.    
  


“I just wanted to save my friend.” Mitsunari murmured. Yoshitsugu stopped his rant, looking at MItsunari with a new set of eyes, one of surprise and almost… pleasure?    
  
“What?”   
  
“I...lied. I did those things, tarnished my role as commander to rescue those soldiers, but… most of all I did it to save my dearest friend. I couldn’t just leave you to die, Yoshitsugu.” Mitsunari looked at the floor, embarrassed with what he had to say. “I hadn’t made a friend in years, and I had already began to break off from Kiyomasa and Masanori. You…” He forced himself to look at Yoshitsugu in the eyes, feeling his heart beat fast. “...Were, and are, my only real friend these days.” Yoshitsugu didn’t reply, which only served to make Mitsunari’s chest cramp with anxiety. Slowly, his friend shuffled over to a chair, collapsing into it. The two men remained silent for a full moment before Yoshitsugu began to chuckle. Slowly, the chuckle turned to gentle laughter, and that laughter turned into a sound Mitsunari had never heard from his friend - pure, overwhelming elation.

  
“You’re a fool, Ishida Mitunari. You don’t have the mentality of a commander, and your personal feelings get in the way of what’s important.” Forcing himself to his feet, a few coughs escaping from his throat, he stood close to his friend. “But then you have fools, like the Useugi, the Sanada, Sakon Shima… and me, following you on your fool’s errand.” Mitsunari urged to reach out, to clasp his friend on the shoulder, but not knowing what the disease was, he feared to take the risk.   
  
“Yoshitsugu… that’s just why I can’t take you with me tomorrow.” Mitsunari murmured. “I can’t be the one who’s responsible for sending out a sick man to his death. No…” He’d come to far. It wasn’t fair to either of them to lie now. “Your illness doesn’t bother me at all. I don’t want my friend to die on that accused battlefield tomorrow.” Yoshitsugu looked at him with such surprise, his eyes wide. For the briefest moments, Mitsunari swore he saw the smallest of tears in his eyes, but then his arm came up and they were gone. Yoshitsugu stepped back,  reaching behind a pack to grab two white gloves, slipping them on. Slowly, he reached out and grasped Mitsunari’s shoulders, looking into his eyes. Mitsunari felt his hands grow clammy and his throat tighten. Yoshitsugu’s eyes were so clear, so unguarded - it was like he was looking at someone completely different to his dear friend he normally saw. “No one has seen me as I truly am, outside of a village doctor or two. So, no one has accepted me for what I am, who I really am. You are the first, Mitsunari, and I’m glad you came to me this night.” Mitsunari smiled warmly, tenderly reaching out to clutch Mitsunari’s shoulder, disregarding the disease gripping Yoshitsugu. Again, his friend lurched with surprise, but he shook his head. To hell with whatever curse lurked within Yoshitsugu - he had accepted him one and all.   
“I wish the tides of fate would let me end it here… but there is something we have to discuss. We have to discuss this now.” He stared right at Mitsunari.   
  


“You’re going to lose tomorrow if I’m not there.” Yoshitsugu said bluntly, taking Mitsunari aback. 

 

“Tomorrow, Hideaki Kobyakawa will betray you, and we will lose the position at Mt. Matsuo. Unless someone of high standing and competency can stop that from happening, the army will crumble and the cause of the Western Army will be destroyed.” Mitsunari shook his head, as if denying what he was saying. Yoshitsugu gripped the back of Mitsunari’s head and looked at him, his eyes turning serious, yet gentle at the same time. “You can’t be there. You need to be alongside Sakon to lead the army. No one else in our army commands the same authority as you two… except me.”   
  


“No. I’m not going to leave you at Kobyakawa’s mercy.” Mitsunari whispered, gripping Yoshitsugu’s hand on his shoulder. He came here to his tent tonight to save him, not hear such things. “There are others that can do it, not you. Anyone but you.” He wasn’t going to lose Yoshitsugu. Not now. He looked down at the ground, his emotions threatening to burst out.   
“Mitsunari.” Yoshitsugu lifted Mitsunari’s head up to face him, his gloved hand holding on to his cheek tenderly, yet firm. The tenderness in his gaze, that mere minutes ago was so frightened and unsure, afraid of how Mitsunari would react to his disfigured form, now filled with a new emotion for his friend.

 

“You accepted me for who I am, even now. Let me save you this time, my dear, dear friend.”   
And as every part of him screamed out for him to reject Yoshitsugu’s plans, lose the friend he’d grown so much closer to on this moonlit night…   
  
“Very well… Yoshitsugu Otani.”   
  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Next time, Sekigahara ends.


End file.
